Never Would Have Given It A Thought
by SilverEyes
Summary: When an unwelcome pirate attack, courtesy of our favorite Captain, shatters the peace and quiet of orderly Port Smith, Samantha Kane's life will be altered forever.
1. Samantha Kane

Disclaimer: I own nothing from PotC, I only own Samantha and any other original characters.

This is just a story I'm writing after seeing PotC. Yeah, it does have an original girl character, but I'm trying to make it exiting and fun to read, without a lot of Mary-Sueism. So read if you wish, review if you wish, I like constructive reviews, I reserve the right to laugh my head off at pathetic flamers. J So, I hope you enjoy this along with the 100 or so PotC fics that have cropped up.

~SE

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Samantha Kane stomped to her room, scowling heavily. What had begun as a fairly decent day had quickly taken a nasty toll on the twenty year old girl's quickly riled temper. Entering her bedroom and flinging the door shut behind her with such a force that it shook the whole house, Samantha picked up her hairbrush from her bedside table and threw it in a rage across the room where it hit the opposite wall with a smash, then fell to the floor with a clatter. A clap of thunder outside and the increasingly grayer skies echoed Samantha's mood. And it was all her parents fault.

Desperately trying to calm down enough to think straight, Samantha perched herself on the edge of her four-poster bed, but her eyes still glittered with anger.

At the dinner table, moments before, Samantha's parents had announced to her with pride that they had arranged a marriage for her. Samantha had been slightly surprised, she knew her parents had been contacting and having her meet with potential suitors for a few weeks, but she had never expected anything to be final so soon.

Nonetheless, it was fine with her until they had told her who she was to wed.

As soon as the words, "Edward Ross," had escaped their lips, Samantha had flung her fork down so hard a crack had appeared in her china plate.

"But father, mother!" she had cried, completely put-out, "I hate him!"

That statement had made her mother purse her lips, and her fathers thick eyebrows slanted downward, making him look like an angry hawk.

It wasn't even just the prospect of arranged marriage that angered Samantha; actually, she had virtually no problem with it. As long as the man she ended up marrying was not Edward Ross. Out of all the men she had met with, he was the richest, but also the most conceited.

Money was a big deal to Samantha's mother and father, who were the sort of people who thought that riches should stay in the family, and to do that, their children should also marry wealthy people. Samantha's two sisters, Kate and Jane had already made perfectly respectable marriages to wealthy lads that were deemed acceptable by Mr. and Mrs. Kane. Kate and Jane were both a year younger than Samantha.

In truth, Mr. and Mrs. Kane had had rather a hard time finding men who would consider the prospect of marriage with their eldest daughter. It was known all through their home of Port Smith that the oldest Kane girl was not the easiest person to get along with. She was lovely enough, with her long red hair and deep blue eyes, but she was strong-chinned and more stubborn than a mule. Such were the rumors that circulated so quickly in the area that Mr. and Mrs. Kane were reduced to having to find men outside Port Smith, who knew nothing of Samantha.

Most of them, in Samantha's opinion, should have heeded any warnings they were given when they arrived in the Port and were asked what their business was. It would have saved her quite a bit of time dismissing them in turn. They had to be the most pompous, self-absorbed wealthy men she had ever met in her life.

After watching Samantha single-handedly drive off man after man with her sharp tongue, Mr. and Mrs. Kane began to grow desperate. If this continued, Samantha would never be married!

Such was their urgency that they forced themselves to beg and plead with Samantha, trying to get her to soften her opinion of the suitors a bit, get to really know them before she threatened to box their ears and sent them away. Deep in her heart, Samantha knew she was being unfair to everyone. But that did not stop her. A nagging feeling inside told her she just wasn't ready for the commitment that was marriage, and being shrewd was her way of delaying it further.

Eventually, though it took a great amount of effort and patience, Mr. and Mrs. Kane convinced Samantha to stop what she was doing and take the matter seriously. Even though Samantha knew they had been right all along, she hated being wrong, so she made it seem like it was she herself who had changed her mind, not that they had changed it for her.

"You are right," she had said primly, "I'll stop rejecting everyone who comes to call."

Mr. and Mrs. Kane knew she was trying to take credit for all their hard begging and toiling, but they kept their mouths shut and breathed in relief. 

Samantha never again threatened any of the potential suitors, in fact; she seemed to be getting along quite well with a few of them. Mr. and Mrs. Kane were so happy to see this that they bought her a lovely new dress. It was navy blue in color, and when Samantha saw it, her eyes lit up. She twirled around her room, holding the dress up to her shoulders, admiring the way the full skirt swished about her ankles.

When the next man, by the name of Edward, came to her one day, Samantha made quite a show of being smitten with him. She had realized that when her parents were pleased with her, they would show it in some physical way. Such as a new dress. Samantha had never been the real object of their affections. Kate and Jane had always gotten the gifts and praise, and Samantha liked the feeling of being doted upon. Latching onto the newfound feeling, and hoping to get some other reward from her actions, she went everywhere with Edward. She ate lunch with him in the garden; she laughed at his feeble jokes and took walks to the docks with him.

Samantha knew she was putting on a good show from the appraising looks in her parent's eyes, but she never noticed the exact same look on the face of Edward when he looked at her. Since she secretly loathed him with all her might, she never gave a thought to him talking to her parents and asking for permission to marry her. But that was exactly what he did.

It was all this that caused Samantha to be sitting on her bed that night after dinner, reliving the events miserably in her memory. Now, a few days later, the full impact of what she had done hit her like a bolt of lightning. She had used her parents and Edward, and was going to have to pay the price. She wasn't proud of what she had done, but if she had known what the result would be, she never would have pretended to like Edward in the first place. Or would she?

"Probably not," Samantha muttered darkly, "I hate admitting that I'm wrong." A hint of scorn in her voice, she said to herself, "And I'm as stubborn as a mule."

Sighing, she fell back onto her pillows, breathing quietly and listening to the distant sounds that floated in from her open window. Port Smith was a leisurely, lazy sort of place. Nothing exiting ever really happened. Some men had gotten very drunk at the local pub once, and had set fire to someone's barn. Even the animals in Port Smith were lazy. The cows had filed out of the barn slowly, almost grudgingly as their home crackled into flames around them. None of them had even let out so much as a moo.

Officers in Port Smith, garbed in their bright red uniforms and wielding muskets, patrolled the streets, but it was all in vain. No riots ever broke out and no arguments were ever enough to attract the attention of the officers. Even the occasional pirate hangings were so hushed that no one attended, either because they didn't know, or just more likely didn't give them a thought. 

The only place in Port Smith that was ever home to any activity was the docks. Samantha walked down their sometimes when the quiet stillness of her home became too much. There were always large ships, sometimes cargo and sometimes not, anchored in rows. Men called and laughed loudly as they set about their days work, loading or unloading the large vessels. To Samantha, living on a ship seemed exiting. The idea of never knowing what a day was going to be like when you woke up thrilled her. The smell of the salty air invigorated her and was one of the only things that could ever cause the corners of her mouth to twitch into a smile.

Leaning back on her hands atop her bed, Samantha breathed in.  A faint smell of wind from the sea reached her nostrils and she relaxed a little. But just as soon as she did, a very unpleasant thought caused a pang in her heart. Something her father had said.

_"Edward Ross is a most respectable lad. Lives in a large house in…What was it, Marchland, I think."_

Samantha gave a fresh scowl as her father's words sounded in her head. On top of being despicable, Edward also lived in a town that was so far inland she'd be lucky to hear the cry of a seagull, let alone ever see the ocean and its crystal blue Caribbean waters again.

All this was too much. Everything had gone wrong. Samantha had never meant for anything like this to happen. Hating herself more than she hated Edward, a tear escaped from the corner of Samantha's eye. Not bothering to wipe it away, but despising herself for crying, Sam edged her way off her bed toward her window. If she stood on her tiptoes and peered over the high rooftop of the blacksmith's, a sparkling ribbon of blue-green met her eyes.

She stood at her window until the sky grew dark around her and the rain that had been threatening to fall all day broke free of the clouds. As the water pounded against the roofs of Port Smith, Samantha closed her eyes in longing. She hated her home for its lack of activity, but she was sure she'd hate Marchland even more. She didn't know when her father and mother expected her to marry Edward and move to his large house, but she knew it would happen eventually, and there was no stopping it, as much as she would have liked to. 

For a fleeting moment, she considered just gathering a few things, climbing out her window and seeking adventure and happiness on her own. A pretty girl down the street by the name of Mary-Sue had done just that, and as far as anyone knew everything had worked out for her, she had met the man of her dreams and was perfectly happy.

But no, Samantha thought savagely, I never did like that Mary-Sue, all she was doing was running away from her problems, I'm not like that; I'm not going to run away.

And with a last look at the docks far away and below her, Samantha changed into her nightgown, blew out the candle that illuminated her room and pulled her covers up to her neck. If she was going to have to marry some man she despised, so be it. It wasn't like there was anything to be done about it.

Wondering dimly what Edward would think when he saw her again and she wasn't acting adoring like when he previously saw her, Samantha gave a small, mischievous grin. Maybe he wouldn't want to marry her after all. But a reasonable part of her mind told her, "Of course he'll still marry you. He asked your parents for permission, and being the gentleman that he is, he can't very well back out of it. Plus, he's rich and you're family is rich."

"Bloody money," Samantha whispered through gritted teeth.

As a calm and rainy sleep drifted over Port Smith, its occupants laid to rest. If any of them had chosen to look out their windows toward the sea near around midnight, they might have noticed an unfamiliar ship making its way toward their home on the horizon and given a warning. But maybe not. Maybe none of them would have given it a thought.


	2. Pirates!

Samantha woke the following morning with an empty feeling in her stomach. She dreaded having to face her parents after her outburst at dinner the previous night. Just as she began to yawn and stretch, a knock sounded loudly on her door.

"Miss Kane!" One of the maids by the name of Marie called, "It's five in the morning, time to get ready for your visitor!"

Samantha frowned, got out of bed, crossed to her door and pulled it open to reveal the smiling, rosy-cheeked, blonde maid.

"What visitor?" Samantha asked sharply. Marie's smile did not waver, but her brow furrowed slightly in confusion.

"Did your mother and father not tell you, Miss?" Marie asked, "You are to get a visit from that lovely lad, Edward Ross!"

As she heard these words, Samantha grumbled. She ought to have known.

"Of course they didn't tell me," she told the maid miserably, "It would have given me time to come up with a plan to get rid of him as soon as he got here."

Now Marie's smile faltered a bit. Timidly stepping behind Samantha as the redheaded girl walked to her closet, she asked softly, "Doesn't Miss Kane like the distinguished Mr. Ross?"

"I would like him a great deal more if he let me be," Samantha snapped, flinging open her closet door.

"If I may be so bold," Marie ventured, "I was under the impression that Miss Kane and Mr. Ross were getting along quite well."

"You and everyone else in this town," Samantha mumbled, now rummaging through her dresses. As she rifled through them and Marie did not say another word she asked, "Did my mother and father have a preference of which dress I was to wear?"

"No," Marie said shyly, "I don't think it will matter."

"All right…" Samantha muttered, pulling the navy blue dress her parents had given her from the closet.

Marie took the dress from Samantha, and led her over to the mirror. A few quick minutes later, Marie was lacing the dress tightly up the back as Samantha clung onto one of her bed posts for support. As she tied the last knot and stepped away, Samantha smoothed her dress down with her hands and looked at herself in the mirror. Suddenly she hated the folds of deep blue material that covered her body. The dress was an all too harsh reminder of the man she was being forced to marry.

"Miss Kane looks ever so lovely," Marie breathed, sweeping up Samantha's fiery locks, leaving a few curls down to frame her face.

"And all of it for Edward Ross," Samantha said darkly.

"Yes," Marie gushed a little too enthusiastically, "He is a wonderful man! You are so lucky to be marrying him!"

Samantha raised her eyebrows. Marie blushed and said no more.

It was still quite early in the morning, but Samantha went downstairs all the same, slipping her boots onto her feet.

Down in the dining room, Samantha found her mother and father enjoying an early breakfast. When their daughter entered the room, they nodded, perhaps a little stiffly, at her. It was all the same to Samantha, who sat down at the table where she was immediately presented with a plate full of eggs and sausage from a servant.

The meal passed in silence for a while, until Mrs. Kane spoke up over her glass of orange juice.

"You are to meet with Edward today," she said.

Samantha looked up, waiting for her to say something else. When she did not, Samantha simply said, "I know."

Samantha knew that they were waiting for another argument, and she simply would not give them that satisfaction. She knew her parents liked to feel they had complete control over her, something she disliked almost as much as arranged marriages now.

"He will be here quite soon," Mr. Kane said formally, "Ready to spend the day with you."

"The whole day?!" Samantha cried before she could stop herself.

"Yes," her father said, pressing on, "And at the end of the day we will be making arrangements for your wedding."

"I can hardly wait," Samantha said, attempting to sound cheerful, but ended up sounding sarcastic.

At that moment, the doorbell rang, and they heard someone rush to answer it.

"Oh hello, Edward!" said Marie's voice from the hall, "Do come in! Miss Kane has been waiting for you all morning."

Samantha rolled her eyes when her parents weren't looking.

"Get to it!" Her mother whispered urgently, motioning towards the hall.

Samantha forced herself to rise from her chair and enter the hall.

Edward was waiting for her, hands folded behind his back, looking just as handsome as he always did. His thick, golden hair was parted exactly in the middle, and his deep brown eyes gleamed with flecks of gold. His full lips broke into a smile when he saw her, and he held out his hand.

"Ah, Miss Kane!" he said, beaming, "How wonderful!"

"Hello, Edward," Samantha said, giving a small, stiff curtsey.

Something like slight confusion flitted across Edwards face, but he quickly smiled again and linked his arm through Samantha's. 

"Shall we take a walk, my future wife?" he asked with pride.

"I suppose," Samantha said halfheartedly, and had no choice but to let him lead her out of the front door.

As they walked through the streets which were getting slightly more crowded, Samantha was forced to listen to a long list of all the things he was going to buy for her when she became his wife.

"How lovely," Samantha said tonelessly as he proclaimed her would get her a diamond necklace.

"What, don't you want a diamond necklace?" Edward asked, shocked.

"Not particularly," Samantha said truthfully.

For a moment, Edward gazed unblinkingly at her, clearly not knowing what to do. "Well then what do you want?" He asked finally, "I'll get you anything, my dear."

Samantha stopped in her tracks, which made Edward stumble and look back at her. Her expression was hard, her eyes cold.

"Would you buy a house closer to the ocean?" she asked directly.

Edward gave a small chuckle and began to try and lead her on, but stopped smiling when he saw she was serious.

"My dear!" he cried, astonished, "That would never work out! There are many wonderful things waiting for you in Marchland! Trust me, you would simply not want to give that up!"

"I'm sure," Samantha said dryly. Edward linked his arm through hers again and they continued walking down the street that led toward the docks.

"Edward…" Samantha said slyly as the distant shapes of ships loomed through the light mist, "Have you ever been on a boat?"

Edward turned slightly green and turned away from the docks, trying to go the opposite direction.

"You haven't!" Samantha shouted, hands defiantly on her hips, "You've never understood what it was like, and now you're trying to deny me the one thing that I've ever really loved!"

Edward looked around and smiled a little at the people who were staring at them. "Keep your voice down," he hissed.

Samantha frowned even more. "Why are you afraid of the ocean, Edward?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"I'm not. What a silly thing to say." 

"Oh, then shall we take a walk down to the docks?" Samantha asked, beginning to take a few steps toward them.

"No!" Edward cried quickly, arm outstretched in her direction, but feet not making any move toward her.

"I think I will," Samantha said airily, and took a few more steps as the look on Edwards face became increasingly nervous.

Edward had no choice but to follow Samantha down nearer and nearer to the docks, but he made it plain he was not going quietly. 

"This is a bloody idiotic idea," he grumbled as they walked, sounding angrier than Sam had ever heard him.

"It is not," she scoffed, "I come down here all the time."

"Why?" Edward asked incredulously.

"Just because you're scared of boats doesn't mean we all are," Samantha told him scornfully.

"I'm not scared!" Edward protested feebly.

As they reached the docks, they saw a large group of men gathered in a tight circle. Samantha walked by them and was able to catch a few words of what they were saying.

"Doesn't look familiar..."

"Should we alert the officials?"

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

"It's a right strange ship, that's for sure; we should just wait and see who it is."

Samantha peered out into the sea, and sure enough, a ship was making its way, was in fact very close, to the docks of Port Smith.

As it loomed closer and closer to the gathering crowd who were gazing sleepily at it, Edward pulled Samantha, who was transfixed, by the arm.

"Let's get out of here," he muttered.

"No."

"I have a bad feeling about this, Samantha."

Samantha turned around slowly. It was the first time she had ever heard her future husband call her by her first name.

"A bad feeling?" she said, her mouth suddenly dry.

"Yes," Edward said, his face clouded.

"All right," Sam said regretfully, "But do we have to leave? Can't we just watch from behind those crates over there?" She pointed to a stack of crates large enough for both of them to crouch behind.

"If you must," Edward sighed, walking over to the boxes. But Samantha distinctly heard him say as she followed him, "Damn sense of adventure."

Samantha decided not to remark on that.

As they crouched there, concealed by the crates, the group on the docks grew larger, now a few officers stood with them, muskets held steadily. Apparently, this ship was the most exiting thing that had happened in a long while.

When the ship finally pulled into place by the dock, the people stepped back a little, peering at it. The officers stepped forward, muskets ready.

A sturdy rope ladder suddenly dropped off the ship's dock and down the to Port docks. Everyone stared at it with wide eyes.

Before anything could be done, men started descending the ladder. From what Samantha could see, they were all big and rugged looking, heavily armed with swords and pistols.

As soon as the last one reached the docks, an officer stepped forward to greet them.

"Hello and welcome to Port Smith," he said mechanically, "Might I inquire as to your names and your business in our-" But he didn't even get to finish his sentence before a sword was plunged so deep into his chest that the gleaming point shot out his back. His face turned ghost white and a trickle of red spilled from his mouth.

The man who wielded the sword gave a nasty smile and yanked it out where it gleamed, coated with blood. The officer fell face forward onto the dock, clearly dead.

Suddenly the dock erupted into a mass of screams and shouts. The residents of Port Smith that had gathered there frantically tried to run away, but didn't get far before they encountered one of the men from the ships.

Samantha watched as a man with a dagger ruthlessly slit a mans throat. The blood spurted out of the victim's neck and he gasped wordlessly, sinking to his knees.

Samantha nearly threw up. The once clean and tidy docks of the Port were now stained reddish-brown and the metallic smell of blood was filling her nostrils. Horrible shuddering gasps and screams pounded in her ears.

As all the people who had gathered on the docks lay there in their own blood, either dead or close to death, the men who had gotten off the ship snarled and made their way up to the main town. Samantha made a quick movement to follow.

"Are you insane?" Edward whispered, holding her back, "They'll kill you if they see you! We were lucky they didn't check behind the crates!"

"Pirates," Samantha muttered, eyes narrowed and gleaming with tears, "Nothing but murdering pirates."

"There's nothing we can do!" Edward reminded her strongly.

"Do you think I'm just going to sit here and let them kill my family?" Samantha asked loudly.

"They'll kill you!" Edward cried, restraining her, "Is that what you want?"

Samantha wheeled around and faced him, eyes gleaming wildly. "Yes," she said in a low voice breaking as she struggled not to let tears flow, "Then I wouldn't have to marry you."

As soon as she said it, Edward grew quiet, even let his hold on her go. Samantha did not move, just watched him. His eyes were the saddest she had ever seen. She knew she had hurt him badly, but she didn't care. She made to leave.

"Even if you don't love me," he said, struggling to appear composed, "I'm still not going to let you die. You are not going to that town."

And before she could protest, he had grabbed her, slung her over his shoulder with strong arms and was walking directly to the pirate ship, stepping carefully over bodies as he went.

"Are you mad?" Samantha screamed, hysterical now.

"They are all in the town," Edward told her wisely, "Their own ship is the last place they'd look for anyone. That's where we'll hide."

"But what about when they come back?" Samantha cried, trying to lessen Edwards grip on her and failing.

"We'll just hide and wait until they are all below deck, then make our escape."

"That has got to be the worst plan I've ever heard of," Samantha snapped bitterly.

"It doesn't matter," Edward pressed, setting her down right before the rope ladder that led to the upper deck of the ship, "Climb."

Since Edward was standing directly behind her, leaving her no room to run away, Sam angrily took hold of the first rung and made her way up the ladder, praying that none of the pirates came back to the ship before they were done doing whatever they were doing.

_Killing_, she thought, disgusted.

She could feel Edward climbing right behind her, and as soon as she reached the top, she pulled her heavy skirts over with her and landed loudly on the wooden deck. Edward came over the railing to stand beside her. He pushed her down on her shoulder with his hand and they both crouched low, peering over the ship railing.

"Now all we have to do is wait until we see them coming back down that hill from the town," Edward said.

"And pray they don't see us first," Samantha told him, gritting her teeth.

"And what do you plan on doin' if that plan crumbles underneath ye?" said a casual voice from behind them.

Samantha and Edward slowly turned on their knees.

A man stood before them, arms crossed as he regarded them almost lazily. His roguish face was very handsome, his lips curled into a sideways grin that revealed several gleaming gold teeth in his mouth. Atop his head sat a weathered, black, triple pointed hat, which still showed a great amount of the brown, tangled hair that fell in artful knots down to his shoulders. A splash of red that was a bandana tied around his head shone from under the brim of the hat, and the beads and few gold coins that adorned his hair clinked gently as he stared down at them. His feet were covered in sturdy brown leather boots that reached all the way to his knees, covering a few inches of his gray breeches. Many straps were slung around his shoulders and billowing white shirt, housing a great number of swords, daggers and pistols, all the straps ending at a belt with a large buckle strapped firmly around his waist. Over it all, he wore a dark blue coat that had been ripped and dirtied on what looked like many occasions.

Samantha opened her mouth, but found that she had suddenly seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

"Cat got your tongue, love?" the man asked, eyebrows raised innocently. His dark eyes, accented by the kohl smudged around them, bore into her. 

When neither Edward nor Samantha said anything, the man swaggered over them and knelt down so he was at their level, arms resting casually on his knees.

"Better make yourselves comfortable," he told them with a devilish grin, "Welcome to the Black Pearl."


	3. Captain Sparrow

Disclaimer: I STILL don't own anything from PotC, just original characters like Sam and Edward.

I hope you're enjoying it. On to the next bit…

~SE

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Samantha watched as the pirate paced up and down the deck, all the while gazing towards the Port, where the distant shouts and screams of the residents floated through the air. She glared at the man. He was undoubtedly the Captain and had ordered this brutal attack on her home.

As Samantha watched the man with cold eyes, Edward, who was still next to her trembled slightly as he looked at the man's pistols and blades.

As he passed them once more and rolled up his sleeves, Samantha caught sight of a tattoo on his upper arm. A black symbol was etched there, depicting a bird flying over rolling waves…

"Jack Sparrow," she said tonelessly, gazing at it.

The man stopped pacing and looked at her. "Aye," he said, giving a little bow, "The one and only."

"I've heard about you," she said, hardly believing what was going on. She had heard many stories about Jack Sparrow, most of them not very reassuring. 

"You have?!" Jack said, sounding positively delighted, "Do tell me, love, do the stories make me come off as a bad, pillaging, raving scalawag?" 

"No," Samantha said, trying to sound brave, "Seeing you burn my town to the ground makes you come off as a bad, pillaging, raving scalawag."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "I didn't order no burnin' of your Port, love, the boys are just gatherin' some supplies, we've run out, you see."

"But they're killing!" Samantha shouted.

Jack cocked his head and leaned back against the railing, facing her. "Be reasonable, lass," he said, laughing, "Do you honestly think we can just walk into a pub for a drink in a respectable town like this? We'd be hangin' from the end of a rope before we could say 'Yo ho ho'."

"But you still don't have to murder people," Sam said, eyes narrowed, "Negotiations would be the civil thing to do."

"Not many are willing to negotiate with pirates," Jack told her, "Unless of course they have themselves a debt to repay, but from what I gather, no one in your town associates with pirates."

"Too right they don't!" Samantha cried.

"Then, lass, we have no choice but to pillage and plunder your happy little home until we've taken what we need, savvy?" Jack said in a final sort of tone with a cheery smile.

Samantha glared at him. "But why are you holding us here? We're of no value to you."

"Ahhh, lass," Jack said, walking over to her and kneeling so his face was very close to hers, "I can do whatever I want, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

Samantha resisted the urge to slap the mischievous smile off his face.

"Besides," Jack said loudly, standing up and clapping his hands together behind his back, "If I let you go, you'll run and tell everyone that Captain Jack Sparrow was behind all this, and they wouldn't rest until they've caught me. And frankly, love, I've got better things to worry about than killing off bloody officers one by one."

"If there's any left to chase you, you mean!" Samantha snapped.

"That's true," Jack grinned, "But I don't think they'll all be downstairs after this, if you understand where I'm coming from. We may be pirates, but we hardly feel the need to kill every civilian we come in contact with."

"Then why don't you kill us?" Samantha whispered in a low voice, hatred running through every vein in her body.

Jack looked slightly surprised. "Because you're a lady," he said, as though he was explaining to a three year old child that one plus one made two, "And even Jack Sparrow has his honor." Jack looked over at Edward, who was fidgeting and beginning to sweat. "But that one," he said, pointing in a slightly drunken way, "Looks like he could do with a good encounter with a pirate."

Samantha looked impatiently at Edward. Out here, on the ship, with Jack Sparrow looming above them, he seemed to have lost all composure.

"I doubt he would even know the blade of a sword from the handle," Samantha said dryly.

"He's that thick, is he?" Jack said incredulously, looking at Edward, head tilted to one side.

"He's the one that led us onto this bloody ship," Samantha muttered.

"Did he now!" Jack cried, "Well then, love, I should think you'd be thankin' him. If he hadn't gotten that stupid idea in his head, you'd be dead on the docks below, I'm sure."

Samantha frowned. "Don't talk of such things," she said, outraged.

"Beggin' your pardon, lass," Jack said, hands raised innocently, "But you've got to learn, if you're goin' to sail on me ship, you'll have to get used to it. I can tell you, my crew certainly isn't as kind as me." He gave her a lopsided grin.

"How reassuring," Samantha returned unenthusiastically. 

"Samantha…" came a dim voice that caused both Sam and Jack to look around. It was Edward, his eyes were unfocused and cloudy, his face slightly green, and he was feebly trying to stand up, reaching for Samantha. His legs kept giving in beneath him.

Jack watched him, apparently amused as Samantha said "What is it, Edward?"

"Samantha…I…I…" Edward stammered.

"Yes?" Sam said forcefully, growing impatient.

"I don't feel…"

Samantha leapt to her feet as Edward gave a wretch and promptly threw up all over the deck mere inches from where Jack's boot had been before he moved it.

"I think he's seasick, lass," Jack said pointedly.

Samantha looked at him. "Really?" she asked, completely irritated.

"Really," Jack told her raising a finger, "I forgot to mention one important thing. The Black Pearl is a non-vomiting vessel."

Edward still looked green, but perhaps a little less so now. He shook violently, though the sun was perched in the sky, warming them from overhead.

"How come you never told me you get seasick?" Samantha growled at Edward.

"I don't," Edward said weakly.

"Tell that to me deck!" Jack shouted, waving his arms.

"Sit down, Edward," Samantha said forcefully, ushering him to a pile of rope where he plopped down hard.

Samantha buried her face in her hands. It was all too much. 

Samantha was so deep in thought, that she didn't even notice Jack sidle along beside her.

"Is he-" Jack motioned with his head to Edward, one eyebrow raised, "-your husband?"

Sam looked over at Edward, whose eyes were drooping and looked as though he were about to fall asleep.

"Of course not," she told Jack, "He's, erm, a friend."

Jack must have noticed her lie by the tone in her voice, but he said nothing, merely picked up a spyglass nearby and held it to his eye, looking towards the port.

"Ahh, here they come," he said in a satisfied voice.

Samantha ran to stand next to him, hands resting on the railing as she peered towards Port Smith.

The pirates were making their way back down toward the Black Pearl, singing in loud, raucous voices as they did so. Their arms were laden with what looked like anything they could get their hands on that might be useful on a ship.

"Is that one carrying…a turkey?" Samantha asked; hand over her eyes to shield the sun as she peered at the men.

"We may be pirates, but we still have to eat, love," Jack slurred, smiling.

Samantha rolled her eyes and looked back. The pirates had left a ransacked Port behind them, strewn with debris and what sounded like more injured people. Samantha wondered dimly what had happened to her mother and father. Suddenly she wished she hadn't been so harsh to them.

Samantha sighed, there was no use crying over something that was over and done with, no matter how much she wished she could change it.

Sam could have kicked herself. She seemed to be wishing that a lot lately.

As the pirates came shouting and yelling up the rope ladder, Samantha backed away, wondering what was going to happen to her. Edward didn't move, either he didn't care that the pirates were coming or he didn't notice through his nausea. 

"Come aboard, me 'earties!" Jack shouted, setting the spyglass down again, "And let's see the loot!"

The pirates poured onto the ship in one large wave. Samantha ducked behind the ship's wheel, her breathing very hard and shallow.

The pirates threw whatever they had gathered into a pile in front of Jack on the deck. Samantha saw Jack's eyes light up as he took it in.

"Not bad, boys!" he called, "Was the local sutler helpful?" Jack gave a kind of cackle and a low rumble of laughter rippled through the pirates.

"Aye, he was helpful!" one of the pirates called, "After we ran him through and was free to 'elp ourselves to what we wanted!"

Jack's dark eyes gleamed in pleasure. Even from a ways away Samantha could see Jack was truly in his element commanding a ship like the Black Pearl. One could tell he loved being a Captain and took great pride in it.

Jack raised his arms and the pirates fell silent. Jack gave a smirk and addressed the surrounding crew.

"Well, lads, while you was pillagin' and pilferin', I picked up something all by me onsies," he said with that lopsided grin of his. He turned towards Edward, whom none of the pirates had noticed crouched down in the rope, and gestured with his hand.

There was a roar from the pirates, a few of them unsheathed swords and cutlasses.

"And that's not all!" Jack roared over the din, "Over by the wheel!"

The pirates all turned their gaze over to the ship's wheel. Samantha stood up in surprise. All the pirates were staring at her. She looked at the weapons still in their hands.

"Your full name, lass!" Jack called to her, clearly loving the astonished look on her face.

Samantha didn't say anything, just stood there, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. It was overwhelming to be the object of attention in the presence of menacing pirates.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do forgive me," Jack said, making a show of pretending to be sorry, "Do forgive me, love, your full name, _please_," he said, sweeping off his hat and bowing.

Samantha's surprised look was replaced by a scowl. She didn't like Jack's mocking ways.

"Samantha Rachel Kane," she said, standing up straighter and trying to look dignified.

"May we call you Samantha?" Jack asked, swaggering over to her, "Or does a lady like you prefer Miss Kane?" 

"Cap'n!" a pirate with many daggers in his belt called, "its bad luck to have a women on board, Cap'n!"

"I'm sure _Jack knows that perfectly well," said Samantha in a scathing voice before she could stop herself, "Nonetheless, he intends to keep me here."_

Jack rounded on her. "The name's Captain Sparrow, lass," he said, with much more coldness than he had had before, "And don't you forget that." He gazed at her for a few seconds, and then turned to the man who had spoken before. "I am aware of that, Griggs!" he said, "Unfortunately, this is an exceptional case. The lass stays. I can't very well 'ave her goin' off and blabbin' on me, savvy?"

Some of the pirates still looked as though they disagreed entirely, but no one said anything. Evidently, they all respected Jack very much.

"Besides," Jack said, turning to Samantha and giving her a sweet smile, "It can't very well be bad luck if she's down in the brig."

Samantha's mouth fell open. She knew enough about ships to know what Jack was talking about. The brig was a ship's jail. The most rotten, dirty and foul-smelling place on a ship. And Jack intended to have her locked in it.

"Oh no you don't!" Samantha cried desperately, "You can let me go! I promise I won't tell anyone about you! I promise!"

"I'm afraid your promise don' mean much to me, Miss Kane," Jack said in a low voice, his hooded eyes gleaming seductively, "It's to the brig with ye."

Before Samantha could say anything else, a dirty rag was tied around her mouth, so that her yells of protest became muffled. Two large pirates each grabbed hold of one of her arms and led her to the square hole in the ships floor that housed the ladder that led to the brig.

As she was being shoved down, Jack looked down at her.

"Don't worry, love," he said with a grin, "We'll let you out," and smiling even more slyly, "Occasionally."

Samantha was tossed down to the lowest level of the ship. It smelled of mold, dirt, sweat and rust. The two pirates shoved her into a small room with a door made up of metal bars. The cell was completely bare save for a set of chained manacles fastened to the wall.

Luckily, the pirates did not use these on her, but threw her unceremoniously to the floor, where her dress was promptly soaked from the slight dampness covering the wooden floor and her face scraped against the wood.

The barred door shut with a clang, and Sam heard the locking sound. She sat up and wrapped her arms about her, shivering. This was no place for a lady. This was no place for anyone. She had made up her mind; pirates were inhumane beasts who deserved everything anyone respectable ever said about them. She was cold and wet, and what seemed like thousands of miles away from the comfort of her home and bedroom.

But suddenly a furious tear made its way down her scraped cheek. Her home might not even be comfortable anymore. Jack's crew had completely ransacked the town. 

Quite abruptly, she was filled with a newfound desire to have just married Edward right away and gone to Marchland with him. There were no pirates in Marchland, not even any ocean. At the moment, Sam was beginning to loathe everything about the open sea she had once loved.

Samantha pulled her knees up to her tightly laced torso and wrapped her arms around her legs. She didn't even know what the pirates had done to Edward.

"Oh, who cares," Sam told herself, beginning to sob bitterly, "Let the pirates deal with him." She knew she was being heartless, but she was so filled with self-pity that she couldn't even bring herself to feel sorry for anyone but her own person.

For what seemed like an eternity, Sam sat in her confined cell, head buried deep in her arms. The ship must have pulled out of Port Smith, because the rocking motions felt very much like they were skimming over waves. Once or twice they must have hit a particularly large one, because Samantha was pitched headfirst into the iron bars that held her captive.

At one point she thought she heard a cry of "Drink up, me 'hearties!" from what sounded like Jack, but her head was throbbing so hard from impact with the bars now that she couldn't be sure.

Shuddering at her dingy and derelict prison, but so fatigued that she couldn't even sit up straight, Samantha forced herself to lie down, head resting painfully on the hard wood.

She didn't know if she ever fell asleep or not, but she knew one thing, now that she was here, she was just going to have to wait to see what would happen next.


	4. Rules

Disclaimer: Disney owns all characters from PotC. I own my computer.

On to Chapter 4, sorry it's a little short! Wow! There are a LOT of PotC fics! What do I have to do to get people to read MY humble one? Geez.

Thank you's:

ScarlettArrow: Thank you so much, my faithful reader! Thank you VERY much for your supportive reviews! I really can't say how much I appreciate them! Enjoy Chapter 4!

Silver Magiccraft: I'm glad you read it and liked it! Keep reading and I'll keep writing! Heh.

ElfPilot: I'm so glad you like the story (as well as my subtle Mary-Sue bashing)! Positive reviews like that are what keep me writing! Thanks very much!

~SE

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Sam wasn't entirely sure how long she had been down in the brig. She had long since ripped off the dirty scarf that the pirates had used to gag her, and used it to dab some of the scraped blood off her face.

She had wondered, but none too worriedly, about Edward and his whereabouts, and about her parents and their home in Port Smith. And lastly she had thought about Captain Jack Sparrow. He was certainly unlike any pirate she had ever met. Actually, she had never a pirate until a little while ago, but even with that first encounter she was sure he was different from all the rest.

She could tell he was a good man. It was an odd thing to realize, after Jack had sent his men to rob and wreck her town, kidnapped her and ordered her locked in the brig. Samantha wondered dimly if she was going slightly insane from all the knocking about her head had done due to the rolling waves. Here she was, thinking a perfectly handsome, respectable and rich man like Edward was repulsive, vile and irritating, whereas she thought a vicious pirate was a good man.

"But that doesn't mean I can't hate him," Sam muttered, pulling her skirts closer to her and wiping her sweating brow. She had given up trying to keep her dress clean. In the brig, it was no use at all; the hem was caked and gritty with dirt and water and was beginning to fray. She was never going to forgive Jack for this, never. A ship's jail was no place for a lady. 

The ship gave another deep plunge, and Samantha was nearly unseated again, but managed to keep her balance by clinging hard to the bars of her cell.

From overhead she heard a distant cry of "All hands on deck!" Samantha crossed her arms. She had always wondered what life would be like on a ship like the Black Pearl, and she had always fantasized it to be quite adventurous. Of course, she would be one of the first to agree that a ship wasn't exactly the most proper place for a lady of her stature, but as long as she just dreamed about it, the whole idea seemed quite romantic, in a sea-faring sort of way.

But now, her musings being a reality, she couldn't believe she had ever wanted to live on a boat. The constant rolling and dipping made her stomach churn and every once in a while she had to close her eyes and swallow hard to keep herself from repeating what Edward had done on deck.

But still, Samantha thought, if I must be on here, I would at least like to be able to breathe fresh air instead of being in this prison.

There was no comfortable way to lie down in the brig. Her cell was barely large enough to house her, she couldn't imagine what it would be like if one of the huge pirates was sent down here. Whichever way she tried to lie down or lean against a wall, her head bumped and banged against hard wood, and her back ached from trying to lie flat on the rough surface.

After a long while she heard footsteps. Sitting up quickly and promptly hitting her head against the bars again as the ship gave a heave; Sam gave a loud shout of pain. A pirate stepped before her cell, leering coldly at her.

"Comfortable?" he asked menacingly. 

"Not particularly," Samantha groaned, clutching her head.

"Perhaps Miss Kane would prefer to be home in her large house with her own room," the pirate said, grinning toothily at her.

"Of course not," Samantha said bitterly, forcing herself to remain calm, "Why would anyone want to be sleeping in a soft bed instead of this lovely place." Something skittered across Sam's lap and she screamed.

"Roach, Miss Kane," the pirate told her with a cold laugh, "Every ship 'as 'em."

"How perfect," Samantha said disgustedly. 

"I came down 'ere to give you dinner," the pirate said shortly. For the first time, Samantha noticed he was holding a plate.

"I thought I was going to be let out of here!" Samantha cried desperately. 

"The Cap'n didn' give no orders for you to be let out jus' yet," the pirate told her, grinning, "He reckons we should keep you down here as long as we can."

"Your captain is a bloody fool," Samantha muttered before she could stop herself. The pirate before her frowned then glared.

"If you ever want to be allowed to come up," he said icily, "Insultin' the Cap'n ain't the way to do it." And with that said, he pushed the plate into her cell and left.

Samantha stared after him until he was gone, then looked at her dinner. From the looks of it, anything the pirates had taken from Port Smith was left off of her plate. Her meal consisted of very hard bread, and that was about it.

Grudgingly, Samantha forced herself to eat. The bread was rock hard and didn't go down well. Every time she swallowed, a tear made its way down her face. When she was finally done, she cried herself to sleep.

The days passed in this fashion for a little while, always the same routine. A different pirate brought her meals every day and she learned not to snap at them or throw any harsh words around. If they were reporting back to their Captain, it wouldn't do to be rash in her words if she ever wanted to be let out.

With this realization, she actually grew to learn a few of their names and sometimes even have small conversations about life on a ship. As hard as she tried to realize that these were vicious pirates who had taken her prisoner, she couldn't help but be fascinated when they told her stories about storms at sea and the places they had traveled to.

Samantha always laughed as she thought about what her parents would say about her associating with men of this nature. But she didn't care anymore. The more she got to know them, the less scornful they were towards her. A few days had even passed where none of them had mentioned how bad it was to have a woman on board. She grew to like the talks she had through the bars with them, since the rest of her days were spent sitting in her cell listening to the distant rumble of waves and wishing she could actually see them.

There was Mitts, who swore he could knock any man out with a single punch, Storms, who had acquired his name due to the huge amount of hurricanes he had guided ships through. There was Jasper, who told Samantha thrilling tales of all the treasure the Black Pearl crew had stolen since Jack became captain, and Rumson, who could consume more rum than three men and still not get drunk.

But her favorite was Griggs, then man who had spoken against her the very first day she had been on the ship. He showed her his sword and dagger proudly, and boasted about the real silver and gold that was laid into the handle. He had even let Samantha hold his dagger once. He taught her a song one day that he said he sang whenever he started to tire of life on a ship.

"Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me…" Samantha hummed one day after Griggs had brought her lunch.

As she sat there, knees up to her torso once again, she heard footsteps and looked around. Someone had just brought her afternoon meal; it wasn't time for anyone else to come down yet!

Squinting through the murk, Samantha saw Griggs approaching her cell.

"Griggs!" she cried happily, "To what occasion do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"Miss Kane, the Cap'n requests you come on deck," Griggs told her cheerfully, jingling a ring of keys in his hand.

Samantha sat up quickly. "Oh, finally!" she said, smiling a little, "I'd thought the Captain forgot about me."

Griggs unlocked the door to her cell and Samantha stooped, stepped out and stretched. She had not been able to stand fully upright since being thrown into her prison. Her back and neck ached quite a bit, and it was rather hard to stay upright. The rolling of the ship seemed to have increased by her standing up. Her legs gave way beneath her and Griggs put out a strong arm and caught her.

Before Samantha could say anything else, he was speaking in a low voice.

"Miss Kane," he said seriously, "I feel the need to warn ye, not everyone up there is goin' to take a likin' to ya like we 'ave," he said, meaning the ones she had gotten to know over her meals.

"Some of 'em still think ye shouldn't be 'ere and will be actin' cold," he continued, "So just be on yer guard, is all I'm sayin'."

Samantha nodded. Somehow she had not thought about that.

Quivering slightly, Samantha followed Griggs up the ladders that led to the deck.

As the first blast of salty air hit her, Samantha closed her eyes and breathed in. Never had air smelled so sweet. It was midday, and the high afternoon sun was high overhead, bathing everything in its warm glow. Pirates were scattered here and there on the deck, some mending torn sails, others sweeping or scrubbing the deck.

Suddenly Jack appeared before her, looking just the same as the day she had last seen him. Samantha was abruptly reminded of how awful she must look. She obviously hadn't been able to wash or comb her hair for days and the red locks were hanging limp and stringy around her face, which had hardened blood and scabs clinging to it from the scrape. Her face and arms were smudged and browned with dirt and her blue dress had turned a dismal gray.

Jack stood before her, hands casually on his hips, bottle in hand. Samantha glanced at it. Rum, definitely rum.

"I see you've decided to come out," Jack said, smiling.

"I would have, long before this," Samantha said coldly, "If you had given the order."

"But it's just so much more fun for me if I make you wait, love" he said, grinning at her, than taking a swig from his bottle.

"You're despicable," Samantha muttered, hating every little thing about him from that half smile to his swaggering strut. She couldn't see for the life of her that she had thought him to be a good man.

"'S'not the firs' time I been told that, love, and it won't be the last," Jack said happily, ringed fingers clinking against the glass flask.

Samantha watched him for a moment, and then gave a start. She had just remembered something.

"Where is Edward?"

Jack peered at her through the sun. "Thought you said he wasn't your husband," he grunted.

"He isn't," Sam said shortly, "But does that mean I can't inquire as to where on earth he's gone?"

"Course not, love!" Jack shouted joyously, flinging up his arms, "You can ask all you want! Just don't expect answers every time you do."

"Do I have the honor of one this time?" Samantha asked impatiently.

"Of course," Jack said quickly, then after a few seconds and with a sly grin, "not."

"Honestly!" Samantha cried, clearly seeing the smirk on Jack's face and knowing he was gaining pleasure with every second of torture he put her through, "Can you ever give me a straight answer?"

"Depends on what kind of mood I'm in," Jack said airily, motioning with a flourish at the surrounding crew who were still going about their tasks. "See them? If they've been givin' me a 'ard time, I'll be in a bad mood, and not goin' to be in a right state to answer meddlin' questions from the likes of ye. Buuuuut," he said, lingering on the word, "If they've been doin' what me tells them and gettin' everything goin' fine, then I'll be in a good mood and fit to answer whatever you like!"

"So they've been giving you a hard time this morning?" Samantha ventured slowly.

Jack looked around with a glare at them all, then turned to Samantha and a grin broke out over his roguish face. "Nope," he told her.

"Then why won't you answer my question?!" Samantha shouted, absolutely confused and irritated.

"You see, lass," Jack said quietly, hands and body swaying with the motion of the ship, "That little explanation I just gave ye would make perfect sense if it came from someone else. But you're forgetting one very important thing, love, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. I don't live by anyone's rules." He grinned wickedly at her. "Not even me own."

Samantha groaned audibly as Jack walked away from her, mischief all over his face. She crossed her arms and leaned against a nearby railing. Griggs came up to her and took hold of her arm.

"Come with me, lass," he said, "I want ye to meet someone."


	5. The New Cook

Oh wow, very, VERY short chapter coming up! I am so sorry about the length; I just need it to be a set-up for the next one, which I promise will be longer! But I hope you enjoy this one! Happy reading!

Thank you's:

ScarlettArrow: Thank you! I really am trying hard to keep Jack in character and I'm glad you think he is!

Silver Magiccraft: Yes, his name IS Gibbs, but Griggs is a character I made up. I reviewed to let everyone know that. Sorry if it caused any confusion! But I'm glad you like it, thanks for reviewing!

ElfPilot: Thank you for your positive review! And I love your fic, by the way!

Alainn: Wow! What an honor! Thank you for liking it enough for it to be the first story you've reviewed! That means a lot to me! Enjoy chapter 5!

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Griggs led Samantha down a very cramped staircase ending in an equally small room.

"Th' galley, lass," Griggs told her. Samantha looked around the ship's kitchen. A very small table stood in the center, jumbles of pots, pans and utensils were crammed everywhere, and there was even a small wood stove. One short stool sat at the table, on which a person was sitting, peeling apples.

"Edward!" Samantha cried, shocked. If it hadn't been for his hair, which was as golden as ever, even in the dim light, Samantha never would have recognized him. He no longer wore his elegant clothes, but a tattered, white shirt and gray breeches. His feet were bare and he seemed not to have noticed that they had even entered the room.

"Is he…all right?" Sam ventured slowly, looking at Edwards unfocused eyes.

"Not too sure, actually," Griggs said brightly, "Doesn't seem to know where he is or 'ow he got here. We put him to work down 'ere so he wouldn't try to jump off the ship or somethin' of that nature."

"He tried to jump off the ship?" Samantha asked incredulously.

"Oh, Jack caught 'im before he swung it," Griggs told her dismissively, "But he still ain't right in the head. We figure it's safer if he's kept to the galley. He does whatever he's told."

Samantha stared a bit more. She had never liked Edward, but with his eyes glazed over like this she liked him even less. He just appeared so pathetic, really.

"Well, maybe he'll be less irritating this way," she said finally, unable to really think of anything to say.

"Right, lass," Griggs said, unable to hide his smile.

"But where are his clothes?" Sam asked, the thought occurring to her as she glanced at Edward's less-than-stately attire.

"Well, he kept absentmindedly pullin' those gold buttons off his coat and all, tryin' to eat 'em, maybe thought they was food," Griggs told her, "So we figured we'd simplify things a bit. At least he can't choke on any bit of his outfit now."

"He must be in shock," Sam said finally, "He's terrified of the ocean."

"We've noticed," Griggs said dryly. They watched Edward until a cry came from above their heads.

"All hands! All hands!"

"Let's go, lass," Griggs said briskly, pulling her along.

Up on deck the pirates were gathered. Samantha noticed that they seemed to be approaching land. The very distant outlines of buildings and homes cut through the mist.

"We're almost there!" Samantha heard Jack cry from the wheel, "Our favorite place!" She saw a very impish smile appear on his on his face as the crew roared their approval and began getting ready to dock.

"Where are we going?" Samantha inquired to Griggs, who was still by her side.

Griggs answered with one word: "Tortuga." 

She merely stared at the man next to her for a few seconds, then marched directly over to Jack, who was still at the wheel and humming to himself in a lazy sort of way, her buckled shoes clicking on the wood.

"Tortuga?!" Samantha cried, leaning over the wheel and staring at Jack, absolutely horrified.

"You've got it, lass," Jack said, staring straight over her, still occupied with the wheel.

"I've heard stories about that awful place!" Sam cried.

"None of 'em good, I'm willing to bet," Jack said, grinning a little.

"As a matter of fact, you're absolutely correct," Samantha said forcefully, "All it is, is pubs, drunk men and indecent women."

"Watch it, those are me friends you're talkin' about," Jack said, smiling gleefully as he saw her mouth drop open.

About ready to dock, Jack left the wheel and shouted a few orders to the surrounding crew as he leaned against the railing, eyes bright. Samantha followed him, quite unsure of what she was supposed to do, but not wanting to drop her argument now that she had begun. Griggs came and stood next to them.

"Business venture?" Sam heard Griggs mutter to the captain, and she saw Jack incline his head ever so slightly in acknowledgement. She barley had enough time to wonder what kind of business they were talking about before she felt rough hands grab her arms and hold them behind her back. She struggled at the surprise, but Jack stepped in front of her and took her by her shoulders to keep her still.

"Steady, lass," he said quietly, his half-smile and dark eyes boring into her. Then, with a loud shout, "Who's going to volunteer to stay 'ere and keep an eye on the girl while we go ashore?"

The crew grew silent, but no one answered.

"No one, then?" Jack asked them, looking at Samantha with laughter in his eyes, "Didn't think so. There's not a man in the world who'd miss a good day in the most pleasurable town in the Spanish Main."

"Then I'll stay here," Samantha spat bitterly, not even bothering to struggle as a rope was wrapped tightly around her wrists, "I'd rather marry Edward than set one foot in Tortuga." 

"Oh, what's the matter, lass?" Jack asked deviously, "There's plenty of women like yourself in Tortuga."

"I'll thank you not to compare me to those, those whores!" Samantha shot back, raging.

Jack didn't loose his cool. Quite on the contrary, the angrier Sam got, the more gleeful he seemed to become.

"Well, lass, since no one wants to keep an eye on you 'ere, I'm afraid the only choice you have is to come ashore. And keep out of the way," he added, eyes glinting.

"My father would not approve of this," Samantha said quietly, glaring daggers at the Captain, "If he ever finds out about this-"

"Your father was not invited on this little journey, lass," Jack told her loudly, "And I doubt even he would pass up a few drinks in good ol' Tortuga. Not to mention few 'indecent' women. I know I certaintly don't."

"And most of 'em don't miss a chance to slap 'im across the face whenever he comes to call," Griggs put in to Samantha with a sly smile.

"True," Jack said with a small chuckle, "Mostly, I'm not on the top of anyone's good lists."

"Oh, then I'll be sure to fit right in," Samantha said coldly, a cold smile twitching at her lips.

"Not unless you take Griggs's dagger and cut that neckline of yours down about three inches, love," Jack told her, smirking, looking down at her bodice and folding his arms casually as the Black Pearl docked at it's destination.

Samantha squirmed slightly under his gaze, but didn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he made her uncomfortable.

He seemed to have other things on his mind anyway. As soon as Samantha looked back up, he began muttering to Griggs, a little black bag in his hand. From the clinking sound it made, Samantha was sure it was full of money.

Was it part of the business venture that he and Griggs had spoke of, Samantha wondered.

But alas, she had no more time to think, for the pirates had lowered the wooden walkway and were disembarking onto the docks of Tortuga. Samantha was shoved after them, her hands still bound. Edward, she thought suddenly, they just left him on the ship! Maybe he would find a way to escape, maybe steal the ship! Sam grinned involuntarily at the thought, but then she realized that if Edward stole the ship and made off with it, she would be stuck in Tortuga with an entire crew of pirates!

"He'd better not try to act the hero before I get back on that damn ship," Samantha muttered to herself, completely aggravated. She had loathed being on the pirate ship, with its dirt and grunge, and now she was in Tortuga, wanting to get back on the ship!

Feeling disgusted at, she let herself be ushered along. If she was going to be here, she would at least make it worth the while. She spotted Jack and Griggs ahead, still speaking in low voices. A little investigation was in order.


	6. Hiding in Tortuga

Thank You's:

Alainn- Thanks! Oh, and REALLY thanks for the spelling correction! 

ElfPilot- Such a short review! Heh, just kidding, here's the next bit.

Frodo-Baggins- I love your pen name! And thanks; new readers mean so much to me!

Hey- Nice name. I'm glad you like it!

Yuko- Thank you for your kind words! You're surprised I don't have more reviews? Ah, well, what can I say, there's A LOT of PotC fics now. I'm just glad that so far none of the reviews I DO have, have been negative. It's incredible.

Charmedfanatic12- Thank you bunches! I'm glad you enjoy it! Oh, and no, it's SUPPOSED to be Griggs, he's a character I made up.

Calendar- Hey, thanks! And romance should be coming, don't worry, hee.

ScarlettArrow- I hope you had fun visiting with your cousins. Your positive reviews really mean a lot to me, I'm glad you think the story is believable! It's such a hard thing to do and I really try.

Now, on to the long awaited (not really) chapter 6! Enjoy!

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"So yer telling me you want me to keep her locked upstairs?" the man behind the pub counter asked, a dusty bottle in one hand that he was attempting to polish and even dustier rag in the other.

Samantha had been dragged into a run-down, slightly lopsided building a little ways away from the Black Pearl. The filthiness of it made her cringe as she looked at the dirty counters and mud-splattered floor.

"That's about the size of it," said the pirate behind Samantha, who was still yanking her roughly along by the ropes wrapped around her wrists, "The cap'n couldn't leave 'er on the ship all by 'er onsies, and no one was about to miss getting' ashore."

Samantha decided not to point out that Edward was still on the ship.

"And you want me to keep her in one of the upstairs rooms?" the bartender asked again, rubbing the bottle some more.

"Yes," the pirate growled, growing impatient.

The bartender peered at Samantha through the murky air. The pub was filled with men talking in loud voices, raising their mugs of rum and spilling them all over the place just so the barmaids, who were lacking material on the upper bits of their grimy dresses, would have to come over and refill them.

"Well, fine," the bartender said finally, with just a hint of a grudge in his voice, "Anything for the cap'n."

The pirate shoved Samantha after the bartender, who had set the bottle down, extracted a ring of keys and begun up a narrow set of stairs in the corner.

They reached the landing, where three doors were set into the wooden wall. The bartender walked up to one and knocked quietly, and when there was no answer, opened it and held out his arm to usher her inside.

The pirate threw her into the room and leered at her. It was quite as dank and musty as the bar below it. The air felt heavy and sticky and it coated Samantha's throat.

"This place could do well with a good scrub," she muttered darkly.

"As could you, Miss," the pirate said, leering maliciously at her.

Samantha felt her temper flare, then looked down at the state of her dress and realized that he was right. But she glared at him all the same.

"If you behave," he said, eyes glinting manically, "Someone will come and get ye when it's time to board the ship."

"Oh that I should be so lucky," Samantha returned, wishing that he would have at least taken the ropes off her wrists.

The door was slammed shut, and Samantha heard the click of a lock, then the sounds of the two men descending the stairs.

Dully, she looked around her prison. It housed a rather small, low bed in one corner and a rickety table and stool in another. A small stand by the tiny, dirt-caked window looked to be full of dull, bent and broken swords.

Samantha sighed. What she wouldn't give to be in her house, with her own bed, where there wasn't any dirt or roaches, with a whole closet full of clean dresses.

Ambling slowly over to the swords, she had a spark of an idea. A broken blade was poking out of the top of the stand; it's cracked metal gleaming hard and sharp.

She turned around so that her back was to it and began to rub her bindings against the demolished blade. It must have been a fresh break; for it was sharp enough to begin to slowly cut her bindings. Her arms ached after a few minutes of attempting to free herself, but she kept steadily on, the ropes fraying with sharp little twangs as the individual threads snapped against her wrists.

After a long time, the ropes fell to her feet, and Sam instantly felt a sort of lightness. Rubbing her wrists gingerly, she winced. The ropes had rubbed against her skin, leaving rings of raw red on the outsides of her arms.

Now that her bound arms did not hinder her, everything in the room suddenly looked brighter and cheerier, and she gained new hope. Now all she needed was a way outside. She couldn't possibly go out the way she had come in, the door was locked. And even if she did succeed in breaking it open, she would have to go back through the pub, where the bartender was sure to see her.

She spotted the bed and her lips slowly curled into a grin. Racing over to it, she ripped the sheets off and unfurled them, now grinning from ear to ear. It was an old trick, but it was bound to work. Now if only the window wasn't locked…

She walked over to it. It wasn't.

A few knots later, a rope made from two sheets was hanging out of the tiny window down toward the earthy street below, the end of which stopped five feet before it touched the ground.

No one was about on the street, but many sounds of rowdy and drunk men were filling the air from the various houses and bars along the road.

Having tied the end of her homemade rope to one of the bedposts and making sure it would be secure, Samantha tied her dress up in a knot at her waist so it wouldn't be in the way. She kept the shift underneath it down, as it was not as cumbersome as the heavier material of the gown.

Grabbing a hold of the sheet and letting herself feet first out of the tiny window, Samantha inched down the rope, praying no one was going to suddenly burst out of a pub and see her. She was actually quite surprised she had been able to pull it off. She hadn't been sure if she could fit through the window or not, it _had_ been quite small. Now that she thought about it, she didn't think she _would_ have been able to if the pirates hadn't starved her half to death. Never in her life would she have imagined a complete lack of food would be a good thing.

With a wry grin, Samantha reached the end of the rope and dropped the final few feet to the ground, landing hard on her feet. Searing pain ran from her ankle all the way up to her thigh, and she nearly collapsed.

"Bloody hell," she winced, struggling to stay upright. A major injury was the last thing she needed. 

The sounds of the men in the pub she had just escaped from grew louder, and Sam looked up at the sign that was hanging crookedly over the door. It read 'The Gleaming Dagger' in cracked and chipped paint. Underneath the words was a picture of what Samantha could only guess was supposed to be a shiny blade. Dirt and wind had long since worn away any newness that might have embraced it when it was first put up.

"More like 'The _Rusty_ Dagger'," Samantha muttered, gazing at the contradiction. 

As she nursed her right ankle, there was a loud slam that made her heart jump to her throat. Two men had just burst out of a pub about twenty yards away and were now making their way noisily down the street right towards her.

"Blast!" Samantha whispered frantically, looking around quickly for a hiding spot. There wasn't very much to conceal someone near the pub, so Samantha settled herself down among a large pile of sacks on the ground, the contents of which she did not know and did not care to find out, as they were emitting a rather foul odor. 

The men were drawing nearer, and Samantha could tell they were drunk. Their faces were very red, and they were swaying as they walked. One of them only had one shoe on.

She lay very still, if they were very drunk, maybe they wouldn't see her. And then, with a wretch, she noticed that she had not taken the rope down from her flight from the pub. Then she realized she couldn't have if she had remembered before. She had no way of doing it anyway; the knot was all the way up at the top tied onto the bed.

The men were walking right past now, their voices loud, but incomprehensible from the consumption of what appeared to be quite a bit of rum.

Samantha squeezed her eyes shut, willing them to move on. But she heard their shuffled feet stop right near the Gleaming Dagger.

"Wha's this, do you reckon, 'arry?" the man with one shoe on asked the other man in a slurred voice, going over to the rope and grabbing it in his hand.

"Dunno," the man called Harry said, squinting at it, "Maybe they usin' it for hangin's now."

The man with the rope looked blankly at him, eyes watering a bit.

"But we ain't never used the one we 'ad before," he drawled blankly. Then, after a few seconds, he gave a whoop of laughter and tugged the sheets down so they stretched as far as they would go, and wrapped them around his neck.

"Look at me, 'arry!" he called gleefully, keeping the loop around his neck with one hand and waving his other around wildly in the air "I'm hangin', I'm hangin', 'elp me!"

Samantha raised an eyebrow, disgusted. She didn't have to often be subjected to this kind of behavior. Back in Port Smith, the men always made sure to stop drinking before they became hazards to themselves or the rest of the community. The closest thing she had ever seen to the man in front of her was one time, near her eighteenth birthday when her father had had a bad day, spent the whole night sitting by his cabinet where he kept his drinks and ended up putting on one of his wife's dressing gowns and skipping clumsily through the street, singing an incomprehensible song about horses and daffodils. 

It was mortifying, needless to say, but fortunately, it had been in the very late hours of the evening when everyone was in bed, so before anyone had time to get up and peer out a window, Samantha and her mother had already ushered him home, where he had slept for two days straight. They had never spoken about the incident since. Besides, Samantha's father seemed to not remember anything about it at all.

Samantha gave a start as she suddenly realized the men were walking towards her hiding spot among the sacks.

"No, no, get out of here, go away," she whispered, trying to make herself as small as possible, ducking her head.

"What's 'ere?" she heard one of the men call.

"Sacks," grunted the other, "Lot's of 'em."

In spite of herself, Samantha rolled her eyes. There was absolutely nothing on the Earth more oblivious than a drunken man.

"Looks like garbage to me," one of them said.

"Smells like garbage to me," said the other.

"No, that's just you," said his friend, quite seriously.

"Whas' that there?" the other asked in an accusatory tone, "There's red among the sacks."

"Maybe someone bled on 'em," the other grunted.

For a second, Samantha wondered what they could be talking about, she hadn't seen anything red, certainly not blood. If she _had_ seen any, she definitely would not have crouched down among the large bags with only her head poking out a bit near the top…

She suddenly realized what they were talking about.

"Damn," she whispered, "That's it, I'm dyeing my hair."

Someone in Port Smith had dyed his or her hair once; it had been a great source of conversation for a long time, seeing as how something so exiting as a change of hair color rarely occurred.

After a few seconds, she finally heard the men amble drunkenly off. When she was absolutely sure they were gone, she leapt up as quick as her now throbbing ankle would allow and half limped, half ran down the street towards the dock, not really knowing what she intended to do.

The ship was in sight when she caught sight of a small flurry of movement to her left. She quickly ducked behind a large tree nearby and stood quietly, watching.

"Hiding," she spat bitterly, "I seem to be doing quite a bit of that lately."

Two people were walking closer, and one of them was none other than Captain Jack Sparrow.

He was talking animatedly with a woman who was hanging on his arm and looking adoringly at him. She was quite skinny, with a very low-cut dress that revealed a swell of her enormous bosom. Her brown hair hung in curls that were beginning to flatten and straighten out, as though she hadn't washed her hair in a few days.

As she and Jack walked along, she looked to be drinking in every word that came out of his mouth. Jack said something, and the two of them laughed loudly. Sam felt a pang in her stomach and felt her mouth twist into an involuntary scowl.

_Wait a minute,_ she thought, startled; _what was that?_ But for the life of her, she could not imagine why a surge of jealously would overtake her upon watching Jack and the women together. So, doggedly, she convinced herself that it was just a stab of pain from her ankle.

"And then, if you'll believe it," Jack was saying, hooting with laughter, "I stole all me loot back that I stole from 'im in the first place!"

Jack gave a loud guffaw, and the woman, who was clad in a dingy red dress, gave a high-pitched trill of her own.

"Oh, Jack!" she simpered, "You are simply wonderful!"

"No doubt about it," Jack said, unblushingly, taking a swig of drink from a bottle Samantha just noticed was in his hand.

"Well, maybe we could go back to the pub and have a few more drinks…" the women said, moving closer to him and giving him a suggestive smile, "Then get better acquainted."

For a moment, Jacks eyes lost their glazed, cheerful appearance, and he looked quite serious. But then his usual sideways grin flittered back, and he turned and took the women's hands in his own.

"Marietta," he said in a low rumble, "Believe me, love, there's nothing I would like more, but I'm afraid I 'ave other business to attend to."

The grin on Marietta's face disappeared at once, and her eyes gleamed with ice.

"Are you telling me, Jack Sparrow," she said coldly, in a voice nothing like her honey-coated purr, "That there is another woman?"

"That's the risk you take when you deal with me, love," Jack said happily, opening his arms in confession. "They just can't keep their 'ands off me."

Marietta took one look at the devilish grin on his face, raised her hand and slapped him across the face with a crack that split the air.

Jack grew quiet, and then raised a hand to his face where she had slapped him, his smile fading. But then, just as soon, his grin was hitched back on. He looked at Marietta, whose hand was still raised, deviousness all over his face and glinting in his eyes.

"And neither can you, apparently," he said softly.

Marietta gave a shriek of frustration, gathered her skirts and stormed away, huffing like an angry rhino. 

Samantha felt the knot in her stomach loosen at once, and a triumphant feeling made her heart soar.

"Just the ankle," she muttered, punching herself in the stomach, as though to squeeze out the feeling, "Just the ankle."

She looked at Jack. He was still standing near her tree, a slightly bemused expression on his face. Samantha was confused. Hadn't he been the one who was so exited to go to Tortuga, especially for the women? So why had he turned Marietta down? He didn't seem like the kind of man who would ever let an opportunity like that get away.

He was walking away now, a swagger in his step, with the bottle in his hand dangerously close to slipping out of his grasp and crashing to the ground.

Samantha was curious as to where he was going, especially if it had to do with the business he had mentioned twice, on the ship and now to Marietta. So, leaving reason behind her, she crept silently after him.

As he passed a building and rounded a corner, Sam stepped a little quicker, slowing down as she reached the corner and peered around it very cautiously. Jack was nowhere to be seen.

Confused, she took a step back and promptly felt one strong arm circle around her waist, and the other wrap around her head from behind, the hand coming to a rest over her mouth, muffling her shriek of surprise.

"Goin' somewhere, lass?" came the low voice from behind her.

She felt herself being pulled closer to the person as they leaned forward and peered over her shoulder, their face incredibly close to hers.

"Captain Sparrow!" Samantha cried, the words incomprehensible through his hand.

"The one an' only," Jack muttered in her ear. Samantha looked at him out of the corner of her eye; he had understood what she had said.

"I thought I 'ad you locked up," Jack said, but not sounding very surprised at all as he finally took his hand off her mouth, but kept the arm around her waist.

"You did," Samantha said, wheeling about and facing him.

"Ah, figures," Jack said thoughtfully. Suddenly, Samantha became very aware of his hand resting on her waist. His dark, penetrating eyes were boring into her again, and she felt like she was drowning in their depths. His roguish grin did nothing but make him seem even more charming as he stood before her.

"So when I made up that little lie to get away from Marietta, I wasn' _completely_ fibbing," Jack said gleefully, looking her up and down, "There _was_ another woman."

As suddenly as Samantha became aware of his charms, the feeling deflated as soon as it had arrived. 

"If you think, for one second-" Samantha began heatedly, but Jack cut her off.

"Oh don' worry, love," Jack said, "I wouldn't dream of it, not with you." He gave her a hooded kind of look, and then began directing her down the street, without so much as telling her where they were off to.

And for some reason, Samantha felt a little offended, maybe even disappointed, and she knew it had nothing to do with her ankle.


	7. Plans

Oh wow! SO sorry this was so late in being posted! I'm sorry a thousand times. And thanks for all my reviews; you guys are what keep me writing! Thanks for the feedback!

Thank You's:

Alainn- Haha, a romance fan! Well, you'll just have to wait and see where I go with it…*winks mysteriously*

Yuko- Thanks for the kind words…in two different languages!

SilverButterfly- Thank you so much! I keep trying to make it funny, but suspenseful at the same time.

Moonspell- Thanks! And I love your username!

Calendar- Haha, I wouldn't be so sure about THAT…at least not yet…hmm…thanks for reading and reviewing!

FRODA-Baggins- Sorry about that! But thanks for reading anyway! ; )

ElfPilot- Ah! I know it takes me a while! And I'm so sorry about this delay!

Elvish-dream- Thanks! And alas, poor Edward is having some issues right now…but we'll see him again!

Empress SLOR- Every day? Wow! That's such a compliment! And I AM SO SORRY to have kept you and everyone else waiting!

Gumball- Coming right up! Thanks!

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Samantha was just beginning to regret leaving the room atop the bar when Jack ushered her to a low roofed building and shoved her inside ahead of him. If she hadn't escaped from the Rusty Dagger she would have just been brought back to the ship when the time came. But now she was being dragged along with Jack, whose every movement, every glance, every smirk irritated her down to her very toes.

Samantha glared at him as he gripped her by the wrists and walked swiftly on after banging the door open.

"You could be a little more careful," Samantha mumbled to herself through gritted teeth, directing the statement at her captor as he walked so fast she tripped on a barrel on the ground and knocked into a table, the edge digging into her side forcibly. 

Though she had spoken softly in a room that was full of people talking and shouting, Jack seemed to have heard her nonetheless.

"I need hardly remind you, love," Jack said with a merry twinkle in his eyes, "That it is I who is in charge around here." He tipped his hat off in a gentleman-like way and continued as roughly as ever.

"Git," Sam muttered icily. 

Presently, they came to a table where two men were sitting, each with a huge tankard of beer in front of them. The one on the right was quite large, with a bushy mustache that shook every time he raised his mug. Droplets of beer were scattered in the course hair on his face. His cheeks were very red, and they turned redder as he spotted Jack sitting down across from him.

"Jack!" he cried, spilling beer everywhere, "Been a long time 'asn't it?"

Jack grinned. "Not long enough."

The red-faced man gazed stupidly for a few seconds, then confusion twitched onto his face. The man on the left, however, looked as though he would have liked nothing better than to personally slit Jack's throat.

He was skinny and sallow-faced, his eyes slits in a narrow face, a brown bandana covering his head.

"I don't think I need to remind you, Captain Jack Sparrow," he spat, "That we are in charge here."

"Men have such power issues," Samantha muttered with a sigh, recalling that Jack had said the same thing to her moments before.

The skinny man turned towards her in one quick movement, at the same time unsheathing a small dagger from somewhere on his person and holding it to Samantha's neck.

"Who's the wench?" he asked scathingly, looking at Sam with distaste. Her eyes were wide open, frozen as she looked down at the blade pressed lightly against her throat, "Have you brought her to spy on us, Jack? Because you know what we do to spies…" Samantha felt the blade dig a little deeper into her sensitive skin.

"I can assure you, gentleman," Jack said, casually kicking up his legs to rest his boots on the table, "That I would never dream of sending anyone to spy on you."

"Good," the larger man said, and motioned for his partner to lower the weapon. The skinny man gave one last suspicious look at Samantha, then lowered his knife, shoved it back in it's holder and sat down slowly, eyes locked on both Jack and Sam.

"This is Miss Samantha Kane," Jack said, motioning at Samantha with one ringed hand, "And she is here to assist us."

Samantha looked at him, completely appalled. At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to get away from Tortuga and it's inhabitants. She certainly didn't want to get mixed up with two of them.

Something on her face must have given this away, since both men leered at her unpleasantly.

"But you didn't bother informing _her_ about that, did you, Jack?" the larger man asked.

"Don't see any reason to, Gary" Jack said lazily, one hand flitting around like a bird in front of him, "It's not wise to inform someone of too much, not until you need to use them, that is."

Samantha's mouth dropped open even wider. Before she could say anything, the skinny man got up and walked around the table to stand next to Sam. "Let me see 'er," he grunted, pulling Samantha to her feet.

As she stood there, uncomfortably aware of his eyes roaming over her body and face, the man called Gary grunted, "A proper lady, to be sure."

"Though she could do well with a new dress," Jack said, smirking in her direction, "Or perhaps the lady prefers dressing in dirty rags."

"I'll be glad to have you know that I didn't exactly have anywhere to change, or much less anything to change into on your filthy old ship, Captain Sparrow," Samantha spat, arms crossed.

"You'll want to get rid of that temper," the skinny man snapped suddenly, grabbing her by the chin and jerking her face upwards to look him in the eye, "Or things might not go so well for you, lass."

"I daresay the lady has not been having an enjoyable journey so far anyway," Jack remarked, looking positively gleeful.

"And you'll want to stop that mouth of yours with something," the man told him, "Or it will land you in some situations you certainly don' want to be in."

"Oh, it already has, I assure you," Jack said, "But I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, mate, no need to worry about me."

"And I can assure _you_," the man said, "I don't."

"Well, Lenny?" Gary said swiftly, breaking the glare connection between Jack and the man who still had a firm grip on Samantha, "Do you think she'll do?"

Lenny shoved Samantha away from him and sat back down. Samantha fell right onto Jack's lap.

"She'll need some breaking," Lenny said sinisterly, "I don't intend to have this fail just because some mad wench can't keep a civilized tongue in her head."

"So she'll be going with you, then?" Jack asked, shoving Samantha off him by her waist onto the bench beside him.

"What?" Samantha cried, shocked, "I'm not going with them! I'm not going anywhere!"

"You intend to stay in Tortuga then, love?" Jack asked, "Well, I suppose a pretty lass like yourself could make a prophet in this place…"

Samantha resisted the urge to slap him. "How dare you suggest such a thing?" she cried, "You…you…" She struggled to think of something bad enough to call him, but Lenny cut off her rant.

"You'll be doing what _we_ say, girl," he said stonily, "Or I promise, you _will_ regret it."

"Right," Gary chimed in, "So we'll sail side by side for a few days, Jack?"

"By all means," Jack told him, "If you need help with the girl, just let me know, I've many a man on me crew who'd love to help out with the, er, taming." He finished with a rather evil grin.

"I can't believe this," Samantha mumbled. She didn't even want to think about what the men were planning, much less wonder what they were planning to do to _her_. She would have never thought she would want to stay with Jack, but after the prospect of being forced into the company of Gary and Lenny, she could honestly say she would rather be in the brig of the Black Pearl.

"We hoist anchor tomorrow," Gary said, getting up from the table and shaking hands with Jack, "Take the girl with you for just one more night, we'll pick her up in the morning, we have further business to attend to."

Jack nodded, and then turned to Lenny with his hand outstretched, a big smile on his face. "So what do you say?" he said to Lenny, who was still looking icy, "Partners?"

Lenny hesitated a few seconds, then grudgingly shook Jack's hand. But Samantha distinctly heard him mutter to the Captain, "Don't you dare try to pull anything tricky, Sparrow."

And with that, Lenny and Gary disappeared into the crowd and out of the bar.

Jack watched them go, a satisfied look on his face, then turned to Samantha.

"Well, come along," he said, "You've got some business ahead of you."

She didn't move until he was forced to grab her by her arms and drag her again.

"I don't know who you think you are," Samantha said, bumping along behind Jack as he made his way back to his ship. The sky had darkened considerably, and many stars shone overhead. "But I am not going with anyone until I know what's going on."

"Sorry, lass, can't fill you in there," Jack told her, eyes raised innocently, "You'll just have to trust me."

"Samantha gave a snort. "Right," she laughed wryly, "I'm supposed to trust _you_."

"If you feel like living," Jack said lightly.

Samantha gaped at his back as she continued to be pulled along.

"Jack Sparrow!" she shouted finally, "I demand to know what it going to happen to me!"

Jack stopped abruptly, causing her to bang right into him. He turned around and grabbed her shoulders with both hands, forcing her back up against a nearby tree.

"Look, lass," he said, his voice suddenly urgent very soft. He had never sounded this way before, Sam realized slowly, as his face inched ever closer to hers, his forehead etched with what looked like worry. "I don't blame you for being frightened, but believe me, I can't tell you what's going on. And the last thing I want is for your fate to be placed in the hands of Gary and Lenny."

Samantha struggled to breath, the pressure from his strong hands not the reason, rather the fact that he was being so serious like she had never imagined he could be.

"If there's one thing you need to remember," He went on in a whisper, "It's not to trust them. Believe me lass," his voice sounded almost pleading now, "Just don't trust them." As he said the last words, his face was less than an inch away from hers. The bark of the tree was digging into her back, but she barely felt it.

A few second's silence passed between them as they gazed into each others eyes, Jack's dark and gleaming, Samantha's huge and surprised.

"Well," Jack said finally, "Better be getting back to the ship."

He took his hands off her shoulders as his old grin slipped back onto his face and his eyes regained their mischievous sparkle.

He straightened his hat, then shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walked away, whistling.

For a few seconds, Samantha was motionless. She still couldn't feel anything but the touch of his hands on her body and the light breeze of his breath on her face and lips.

As she saw his silhouette growing smaller and smaller, she suddenly realized that he had let her go and wasn't dragging her with him! She could run away and hide and he wouldn't even notice!

She pulled away from the tree and wrenched her dress off a few pieces of bark and looked around. And without a second thought, she gathered her skirts and followed the form of the merrily whistling Jack.


	8. Tears

Oh wow. Sorry for the delay in updating. I had this written a little while ago and never posted it because I wanted to add more. It's really short, and I'm sorry to present you all with such an awful piece of writing. I'll probably end up redoing it. But in the meantime, enjoy! I'll have this back on track and be updating a lot more now, thanks for reading!

*          *            *

The form of the Black Pearl stood shadowy in its spot on the docks as Sam and Jack approached it. For the first time, Samantha was actually able to appreciate the sheer grandeur of the vessel. It towered magnificently over her head, completely black against the dusky purple and blue streaked sky. The masts were thrust so high that it looked as if the silver moon was caught in the rigging, and lights behind the portholes turned the glass into sparkling yellow-green circles.

"What is it, lass?" Jack asked as Sam halted behind him. His voice was unusually quiet.

"It…it looks like something out of a book," Sam said, wonder in her eyes, "Out of a fairy tale."

Jack looked at her for a long time. Sam could not decipher the expression that his gaze held. Finally, he tore his eyes from her and walked away, back up the rope ladder that led to the deck. 

Sam followed quietly, the soft sound of the splashing waves filling her ears. Once on deck she looked over the side, out into the open ocean. The navy blue waves were rolling gently, peaked with silver from the moon.

A tear made its way down her muddy cheek. Everything seemed so perfect right now, as impossible as that could be. But tomorrow she was going to be thrown aboard some other ship manned by two horrible men with no notion of what was going to happen to her. Would she ever get to see her family again? Would she even make it through this secret plan to live to tell anyone?

The tears came faster now as she leaned over the railing, falling like a shower of rain into the deep sea below.

"How many tears was that?" came the soft voice of Jack from behind her.

Sam tuned around. She wasn't even alarmed at his way of sneaking up on people anymore.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound dignified, but it only came out sniffly.

"I said, how many tears was that?" Jack repeated, "For every tear that raises the ocean you get one wish."

Sam gave her best effort to chuckle. "Nonsense," she said dismissively, wiping the water off her face, "I wasn't crying."

Jack looked at her, his expression once again unreadable. "Shame," he said after a while, "I would say that you could do with a good cry, love, not to mention a few good wishes."

And with that, he turned on his heel and began to walk back to the helm.

"Jack Sparrow!" Sam cried, a little hysterical now, "This is all your fault! You and your stupid ship and stupid crew and stupid plan!"

Jack stopped in his tracks, turned around and walked back, his steps hard, a blazing fire now in his eyes.

Sam recoiled, half expecting him to hit her, but all he did was grab her arm and drag her back to the railing, opening his arms to the night.

"You see that?" he said to her, still gesturing, his voice deep and strong, "All that out there. I don' care about the plan. It's my fault I got caught up with Gary and Lenny and I'll admit it. I don't give a damn about the plan, or the money or anything. It's not what I'm about, lass," he continued forcefully, "The sea, the waves, the salt, the breeze, I'm a _part_ of it. When you're out here, everything in the world seems so right, even in the midst of a giant storm. It's about never knowing what's going to happen, never knowing who you're going to meet, it's about creating your own destiny, it's all that matters, and it's the only thing worth living for."

There was a silence broken only by the lapping of the waves. Jack's face was still towards the ocean, his profile dark and handsome, his hair blowing in the wind.

Sam felt as though someone was squeezing her throat. She could hardly breath; hardly speak as she looked at the Captain. 

"That may be," she said, her voice shaky, "If you have no home waiting for you somewhere else."

Jack turned his head, his eyes filled with a sadness so absolute that Sam began to cry again.

"But you wouldn't understand," she said, turning and leaning on the railing, "I have a family and a life I need to get back to, and that's the only thing worth living for right now."

Jacks reply came so softly that the end of it melted into the whisper of the wind. "The _only_ thing?"

There wasn't anything for Sam to say. She turned away and sat down on a pile of ropes near the helm. She wasn't going to admit that she was scared and nervous. Jack had a kind of unreachable power that she found she couldn't deal with when he was acting like a vicious pirate, and now that he was acting human, she was even more scared of the power he wielded. 

"Good night, lass," Jack said softly, starting down to his quarters without even looking at her.

He was gone in a split second, as quiet as could be.

Sam clenched her teeth together angrily and squeezed her eyes shut. She would have liked to yell and accuse him some more, but at the same time she wanted to reprimand herself. 

She fell back onto her bed of ropes and sobbed silently, the tears flowing down her cheeks even as she fell asleep.


End file.
